


Hey, Mr. Rager

by andwhataboutit (mothmanlovesya)



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (but not really), Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Borderline Alcoholism, Drinking, Drinking to Cope, Drunken Flirting, Karl Jacobs is a frat boy, M/M, Misunderstandings, No beta we die like lmanburg, One Night Stands, Partying, Slow Burn, Smoking, ill add more tags as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:41:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29016009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothmanlovesya/pseuds/andwhataboutit
Summary: "You're so fucking wasted."It was times like these George wonders where the hell he went wrong.--George, a college student struggling with his own fucking thoughts and self-hatred, finds comfort in his roommate's crushes frat parties and starts to spiral. On his way down though he meets a man who proves to be just as addictive as the party scene itself.
Relationships: Background Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Wilbur Soot
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Hey, Mr. Rager

**Author's Note:**

> Holy shit hello ok I have alot to say here so this will be a long note but please read.  
> 1) THIS WILL BE TAKEN DOWN IF THE CC'S CHANGE THEIR MIND ABOUT THIS STUFF, obviously. This is more of a creative piece just with these names and "characters" anyways. You shouldn't really ship real people, this is all in creative fun. :) (The Karl/Sapnap is also merely for convince sake.)  
> 2) There's gonna be borderline alcoholism and drug abuse here so if that triggers you pleaseee don't read. I don't know how much I'm gonna go into it yet but it's definitely there, and it has a Euphoria type take of it so it might seem slightly romanticized for a bit, I'm sorry. If this is something you or someone you know is struggling with please reach out to someone you trust, it's serious shit.  
> 3) Dream isn't in this first chapter but he's in the next one, promise ;)  
> 4) It's also slightlyyyyy forced and I feel kinda boring but I had to get myself to do the exposition, it's important, I promise  
> 5) Every chapter has a song that it's paired with! There might be some connections through out the chapter or it just might be the title but if you're interested, give em a listen!  
> 6) This is my first fanfic in a WHILEEE and it's the most ambitious/long one I've ever done, but I really like the story I've planned and I hope I can write it to some justice :)

“You’re so fucking wasted.”

George was sitting on the floor, head tilted up to keep himself from vomiting in the middle of whatever frat living room he was in. He had gotten himself past the line of spinning vision and blurry colors to violent waves of axis-tipping sight and completely unfocused gazes. He didn’t know who was speaking to him or what he was even doing. All he knew was that even with the waves of nausea coming on, he basked in the euphoria of absolute nothingness. He wasn’t anything to the world around him and the world around him was nothing but sparkling lights and background noise to him. He reveled in it, clung to it like a vice. 

And then he threw up.

_ How did I get here. _

Before his sophomore year, George was not a partier. He and his roommate Nick had gone to maybe five parties their freshman year, but even then at least three of those could easily not count as parties. Say what you want about stereotypes, but computer science majors generally didn’t throw ragers, so there weren’t many for the two to attend. Not that either of them minded. When George decided to go all the way to America for college, he had vowed to himself that he would focus on his studies. He was going to be fighting off debt for a long time just for this top-ranked tech program, so he had to make it worth it. And what’s  _ not  _ worth it is throwing your life away drinking yourself to death every weekend.

_ Oh, the irony.  _

Nick didn’t party out of mere social anxiety. He would find any excuse to avoid going out, including  _ actually studying _ which for Nick was nearly unheard of. Wilbur had to practically shove a blunt down the man’s throat to get him to go anywhere. George has begged him to just go to a doctor and get a  _ very justified _ medical marijuana card for his anxiety, just so he’d stop having to associate himself with literal drug dealers, but Nick couldn’t be bothered. It was apparently less nerve-wracking to become friends with a few low lives than tell a doctor about his issues. Even though George loved his roommate, he did not understand his thought processes at all. 

This is why when Nick bursts into his room halfway through the first quarter of their sophomore year and suddenly tells George they’re going out, he knows there’s an ulterior motive.

“We’re doing what now?” George asks, raising an eyebrow and not even bothering to look up from his computer. The other immediately went to mess with George’s desktop items as he talked, face already heating up.

“We are… going to a frat party tonight.” He picked up a funko pop and stared at it intensely. George paused his homework and looked up at his nervous roommate, who was very clearly trying to hide something. However, despite his efforts, George knew exactly what. After a moment of silence and George blandly watching Nick toss around the BMO funko pop in his hands as if it were the most interesting thing he’d ever seen, he speaks up.

“Please do not tell me you’re simping over a frat boy.” Nick dropped the figure back onto the desk, snapping his head up with an offended expression on his bright red face.  _ Nailed it. _

“WHAT? What the FUCK, George, why would you even say that?” He questioned angrily. George started to laugh lightly at his friend’s reaction, but cut him off before he could be yelled at again.

“Sapnap, you have never once in the time I’ve known you willingly gone and invited me to a party.  _ Especially _ a frat party. Yet suddenly, after a week of hearing about this Karl frat boy from ‘chess club’, you’re going to one.” George knows he nailed it but he watched as Nick floundered to disprove anything he could. He opened his mouth a few times, looking like a fish out of water as the gears turned in his head and he analyzed George’s response. 

“I- Ok, what the hell do you mean by ‘chess club.’” Nick raised his hands to repeat the quotations around the words that George had thrown up.

“You don’t have to lie to me, you can just say you met this hot frat boy off grindr.” George joked, turning back to his homework with a smirk. Nick shrieked in embarrassment and rage, lunging over to where George sat on his bed to grab his laptop and slam it shut. George laughed as his friend threw his laptop to the end of the bed where it luckily landed on his spare throw.

“I MET HIM IN CHESS CLUB, YOU ASSHOLE. Jesus Christ-” As much as George was enjoying his embarrassment, he knew the other did most likely meet this boy in chess club. Sapnap was a terrible liar, and this wasn’t deflective rage, simply annoyance induced. George was skilled at telling the difference by now. “It doesn’t  _ matter _ why, sigma omega is throwing a party tonight at their house and I wanna go. So you’re going too.” George huffed, shaking his head and reaching back down for his laptop.

“Count me out.” Nick moved to grab his laptop, putting it out of reach on the table.

“Georgeeee.” He pouted, leaning against the desk. George merely blinked, completely unaffected by his friend’s childish puppy-dog eyes. Although he was an only child, he grew up being best friends with his mate Wilbur, who’s instant reaction to not getting something his way was to fall onto his knees and grovel for it like his life was at stake. So, George was essentially guilt-trip proof.

“No way man. Why do you need me there anyway? You’re going to hang out with Karl, aren’t you?” He watched as Nick’s face grew red with the name, looking down to mess with his hands. Although he hadn’t met this Karl character yet, and he didn’t have a great feeling about frat boys, George had never seen Nick be like this about anyone. Even when he did like someone in the past, George couldn’t remember being constantly bombarded with useless information about them just in the span of a week. 

“I- We’re not that close and he’s gonna have  _ literally _ his whole frat there and I’m sure a bunch of other people he knows. I’m not gonna know anyone and I can’t just cling to him the whole time.” George softened a bit as his friend was actually genuine, something that didn’t happen as often as it should. He gave a small sigh, throwing his legs off his bed to sit.

“You really are good at making friends, you’ll meet people easily.” He offered, but Nick huffed, shaking his head as he continued to stare at his hands.

“I know, just-” He looked up, face full of genuine desperation. “It’s  _ not  _ easy, that’s the issue. I need you there George. Please?” They stared at each other for a few seconds before George sighed in defeat. He hung his head in his hands.

“Fine.” Nick’s celebratory thank you’s were tuned out by George’s growing gut feeling that this was going to go terribly. He knows he should get out more than he does, but he’s perfectly fine staying at home, and there was a good chance he was about to be a third wheel. But, he would do it for Nick. As terrible a feeling he had about the party, he had a good one about Karl. If this is what it would take for his anti-social anxious roommate to finally become close with someone else and socialize, he’d do it. George at least felt he could go to parties if he really wanted, but sometimes it felt like he watched Nick restrain himself, and it was sad. They’ve never been the kind of friends to be overly comforting or intimate with each other so he never outright addressed it, but when he saw an opportunity to help, he had to take it. This just happened to be one. So as awful as he felt about it, George went to the party.

And his feeling was right. It was awful.

George was able to cling to Nick a majority of the night, but at some point he was pulled aside to be shown something in another room and George had lost him, left abandoned on the edge of a crowded makeshift dance floor. He tried to swallow down the bitter feeling burning up his throat with the beer that had been shoved in his hands, but it just made his chest warm and his annoyance rise. Despite knowing this would happen, he still felt uncomfortable from the loneliness. Although, he wasn’t really alone. Around him were nearly 40 people, weaving in and out of each other and into other rooms. Some were drinking, some were dancing, others were screaming conversations to each other over the eardrum blasting music. George sipped his drink and observed, wondering how many of the lonely wall huggers were also dragged here against their will and left to fend for themselves. 

He rolled his eyes at his own sardonicism. He couldn’t be mad at Nick for hanging out with the guy he  _ came here to hang out with _ . That was completely expected and it wasn’t fair to hold something against him for it. Plus, the more alcohol he drank and people that came, the more bearable he found it. Everything started to have a softer film on it, smoothing together in a way that made George feel like he was watching a security camera in fast forward. It was interesting how similar every different person and group was. He watched with keen eyes, starting to understand the appeal. The next time he checked the time it was 12 and Nick was stumbling his way back to him. He had surprised himself with how fast the time went and, more importantly, how little he had thought about himself in that time. 

It was a flaw of his. While his roommate’s anxiety kept him from extrovertedness, George simply could never get out of his own head. It was a constant war of second-guessing and almost’s and riding on the edge of taking risks before falling back and changing his mind. He hated to think about all the time he's spent silent, chickening out and biting his tongue, how much of his life he’s spent unable to do anything worthwhile because he was too chicken. Too scared of what could go wrong, of what he could lose. He was always praised as a safe person, but the issue was it was to a fault. It was a constant battle in his head of all the things that could go wrong if he said this or did that and he was… exhausted.

So something clicked when he was able to hum away three whole hours just with a few beers and some party lights. The bad feeling in his stomach returned and a small red flag rose in his brain but, for now at least, he didn’t really care. And it felt so fucking good to not care.

“Where have you BEEN?” Nick slurred, laughing and leaning against George. He was still clinging to a solo cup despite it being empty and was sweating as if he’d just been playing some kind of game or got too caught up in the heat of the party.

“Where have  _ you _ been?” George shot back, although any malicious intent in his voice died hours ago, so it was merely inquisitive. 

“With Karllll, holy SHIT with Karl. AND his friends. Oh my lord, George, you need to meet Alex dude he’s sooooo fucking funny.” George couldn’t help but smile at his drunk friend, leaning on him for support as he rambled about the hours George had spent alone. Feeling the pressure from his friend’s body gave a gentle reminder that he needed to get Nick home before he drank anymore because he did not trust Karl enough to leave him here and if Nick got any drunker he would need carried home, which George’s robotics-club, never-touched-a-sport-in-his-life body could not do. 

“How about let’s get you home.” George moved his arm to support as much weight as he could to get Nick to walk to the door. He gave a grumbled protest but let his feet shuffle with George towards the exit.

“BYEEE SAPNAP!!” A voice called from across the room. Both of them turned to see a lanky brown haired boy with a goofy grin waving like an idiot next to a shorter boy with a beanie, leaning over a table looking like he was about to piss himself laughing. 

“Byeee.” Nick yelled back, although his drunken yell most likely didn’t carry enough to cut through the crowd.

“You told him your nickname?” George questioned, slightly impressed. Typically George was the one to spread it around for their friends to use. The man in question merely nodded and laughed, continuing to stumble forward down the sidewalk with George as his crutch.

“Mm…” 

“What was that?” Nick seemed to be pondering something as George glanced at him before concentrating himself back onto not tripping on the sidewalk. He was curious as to what was causing the man to look like he was thinking of the most important fact he’s ever thought of.

“...Pandas.”

  
  
  


George wasn’t surprised to be dragged to another party the next weekend, but he  _ was _ less apprehensive and more prepared. This time, he invited Wilbur. 

“ _ YOU WENT TO A FRAT PARTY WITHOUT ME?”  _ George winced and held the phone away from his face and the offended shriek. He cautiously put it back against his ear again to reply.

“Yes, one, but you’re invited to this one.” He flipped through his notebook, skimming over his well organized notes. It had taken him so long and he fucking hated it, but he knew he had to study harder in this class since it was a higher level course, so he did. And now they’re color coordinated.

“ _ Well GEE, thanks for the consideration. _ ” Wilbur grumbled through the phone. George could hear the annoyed look on his face.

“You’re welcome.” He smirked, shutting his notebook at Wilbur’s short exhale laugh. 

“ _ Since when were you guys party people anyways _ .” The confusion leaked from his voice, which George found completely fair. He put his phone on speaker and set it on his desk, looking around his already spotless room for something mindless to do while he talked. He wasn’t the kind of person that liked downtime so he was constantly cleaning or multitasking.

“Since Sapnap met a frat boy at chess club.” He snorted. Wilbur’s astonished laugh was staticky and infectious.

“ _Ohhhh Ok_ , _Sapnap_.” He teased, and though Nick wasn’t there to defend himself George laughed anyways. Wilbur’s laughter started to grow. “ _Fucking-_ **_Chess club_** _?_ ” He wheezed. George heard a table being hit as the other man tried to catch his breath. George joined in on his laughter, shaking his head.

“I couldn’t make it up if I tried.” He chuckled, grabbing his comforter to remake his bed. 

“ _ Jesus, ok. Where are we meeting? _ ” George spread his blanket evenly, adjusting some pillows while Wilbur responded, clearly still catching his breath.

“I’ll send you the address. We’re gonna meet up there at 9 tonight.” 

“ _ Perfect, I’ll see ya there Gogy. _ ” George imagined the wink before his phone beeped at him twice, signaling Wilbur had hung up before George could say goodbye back. He sighed at that, shaking his head although not truly mad. He’d known Wilbur for so long now that he was never truly surprised at any of his actions. They’d been through a lot together, and although he considered Nick his best friend, Wilbur knew him the best. He almost felt guilty at how fast Nick and him got close despite Wilbur flying to the same college as him, but he knew there were no hard feelings since Wilbur had made his own close friends too. They’d always be there for each other, George knew that much.

He stared at the phone on his desk. The room was silent.  _ Fuck _ . 

**_You said something wrong._ **

George wished Nick was at least home, loudly making a mess in the kitchen, but he wasn’t, so the whole apartment was completely silent.

_ No, I didn’t. _

He looked around his room. Everything was organized and in place. There was nothing left to sort, and not even much to study. He’d caught up on all of his homework and understood the material so well if he looked at it anymore the physical class would be too boring to stay awake during. It was just him, alone in his apartment, left with new-found free time for the next three hours until he could leave to meet everyone at the party.

**_He wouldn’t have just hung up if you hadn’t done something._ **

George shoved himself into his desk chair, throwing on his headset and powering up his computer. He couldn’t believe he was excited for this party but he  _ needed _ a distraction, and however terrible and hot and sweaty that last party was, it was… oddly nice. 

_ It’s Wilbur, he doesn’t hate me he just does that. _

The windows logo flashed onto his screen, quickly disappearing and moving to his home screen. He sped through his pin and clicked on Spotify as fast as humanly possible.

**_But-_ **

_ When I was young and stupid, my love... _

He’d clicked the first playlist on his home page and cranked his headset up to max volume, not allowing any coherent thought to form and bug him. He didn’t recognize the song but didn’t mind it, so he let it continue to play as he pulled Minecraft up to pass the time. Sometimes he wishes he didn’t need to be constantly distracted to stand existing.

But he didn’t wanna think about that.

  
  


It was astonishing how similar the house was to the last party. It’s the first major thing George notices about these parties. It doesn’t matter where they are or who’s throwing them, they’re always the same. Maybe one has a pool or maybe one has flashing strobe lights in the kitchen, but overall they’re always the same. They’re shouting and loud music and stuffy air and sweaty people who don’t know where they are and they don’t care. George almost despises how enamored he is by it all. 

Although he enjoys Wilbur being there, and Wilbur won’t just abandon George if he doesn’t want him too, he slips away around halfway through again. Just for a moment, he excuses himself from the madness the past hour had been meeting Karl and Karl’s friend Alex. He had let Wilbur take the lead in conversation and getting along, which turned out to be a good call because it barely took ten minutes before Wilbur and Alex were throwing back shots together and screaming bad acapella versions of old 2000’s songs. Karl seemed very nice and George took notice of the looks he was throwing Nick. It made him happy for his friend, if not disgusted. After their third group shot and a beer, he slipped away before he was forced into the drinking game Wilbur was rambling about. He slipped out of the kitchen to the hallway, dizzily making his way around people. His intention to make it to one of the walls of the living room to observe like last time was misdirected as he got caught in a group headed to dance in the center. He tried to push his way through the condensed crowd but seemed to keep getting turned back around.

He stopped, looking around him to evaluate his settings. It was hard to focus on much as everything started to have that nice smooth blur on it again and faded together, but he was surrounded by people dancing terribly along to whatever song was playing, bass ridiculously boosted but slow enough it was easy to feel and glide to. There were no colored or strobe lights, simply a few lamps in a few of the corners, keeping the room dimly lit. The heat of sweat weighed on the room, causing an extra intoxication of humidity. It was easy to get lost in, and George couldn’t help but love it. He let his eyes slip shut, joining those around him in their awkward swaying and stumbling. The feeling was indescribable and he’d never felt so found in being so lost. He brought his second beer to his mouth, eager to finish it, chasing the heat in his chest. George wasn’t George anymore. He wasn’t thinking, he wasn’t running from his own thoughts, he was simply gone. 

He chased the feeling every weekend now.

Which, he recalls, is exactly what brought him here.

“You’re so fucking wasted.” 

George leaned over to his side and threw up, vaguely hearing a disgusted sound coming from whoever was around him. It was an odd feeling, being conscious but knowing damn well you were nowhere near it. He felt himself being lifted by his arm, a strong presence next to him causing his legs to slide along the floor, allowing himself to be moved locations. They’d gone out every weekend for almost two months now and George can proudly say he’s only gotten like this twice. When the chase got too out of hand, when he needed to lose himself just a little more, and went tumbling over the edge. He didn’t like to get like this, mainly because of the scolding from Nick, but it happened. 

His eyelids started lulling shut, not that George was looking at anything in front of him anyway.

“Hang in there a little longer man, you’re heavy.” 

George hummed at the noise, letting off a small giggle before letting slip the first thing that passed through the intoxicated filter of his mind.

“I feel so fucking numb.”


End file.
